Tease
by waterflower20
Summary: The tension simmering between Hermione and the new DADA professor comes to a head during a snow storm.


**Title:** Tease

**Prompt: **_Tom and Hermione find themselves stranded together during a snow-storm. AU allowed. Doesn't have to be canon._

**Rating: **M

**Pairings: **Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger

**Squicks: **No OC, OOC, pregnancy.

**Summary:** The tension simmering between Hermione and the new DADA professor comes to a head during a snow storm.

**Warnings: **AU, explicit smut, cheating.

**Word Count: **~6600

**Author's Note:** This is my submission for the _Gutter City Tomione Convention_'s Secret Santa exchange; my original recipient was **Markovia**, but she dropped out, so my gift went to **Serpent In Red**.

For my first time writing Tom Riddle Jr/Hermione Granger, I chose to go easy; this story is heavily AU, meaning no canon events – with a few minor exceptions, - took place. Tom is only ten years older than Hermione, and Voldemort never existed.

That means that both she, and Tom might be OoC; I tried to keep the basic characteristics of them, but canon events played a great part in character development for both characters. Case in point, Merope survived childbirth, and raised Tom in Muggle London. He still thinks Muggles are inferior, but he doesn't hate them to the point of genocide.

I'm thinking of expanding on this universe when I have time; what do you think?

**PS: Go to my profile for the link to the full version of this story; the MA rated content was more than half the story, so I'd advise you to just go to my livejournal and read it there.**

_**Disclaimer**_**:**"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

_**Tease...**_

_**December 10th, 1997**_

"Are you satisfied with yourself, Miss Granger?"

Hermione, huddled in front of the small fireplace in an effort to warm her freezing body, did her best to stave the string of insults threatening to spill forth from her lips, but she was unable to stop herself; as usual when it came to _him._

"No one asked you to come after me, _Professor._" She haughtily replied, her hands trembling as she extended them toward the roaring fire.

Suddenly, a hand landed on her shoulder, grabbing her with such strength, she winced; his cool breath brushed her ear as he bent his larger frame over her smaller, huddled form. When she felt his lips brushing her earlobe, she shivered.

_It's the cold, _she consoled herself. _It has nothing to do with the fact Professor Riddle's lips touched your ear; nothing at all._

"If I hadn't come after you, Miss Granger," his grip tightened when she tried to move away, bordering on painful, and she stilled, breathing deeply through her nose. "You'd be dead; either eaten by that Acromantula you stupidly thought you could take on, or you'd have frozen to death. So, a show of gratitude would be more appropriate than pretending you could handle yourself out there."

"I _could_ have handled - "

He released her shoulder, only to grasp her chin, forcing her to turn her head to face him; he was down on one knee, his frame practically enveloping hers, he was so much bigger. What caught her attention though, was the warning flashing in his usually cold, passive eyes, and the way his lips were pressed into a thin line.

Hermione felt her heart jump in her ribcage when she locked eyes with her professor.

Merlin, he was _so beautiful_.

He lowered his face, his eyes darkening to stormy grey, and she bit her lip to stop from whimpering when their noses bumped. He was so close, all she needed to do was lean in, and they'd be kissing.

"You might be a powerful witch, Miss Granger, but you forget Avalon has a strange effect on magic; that's the main reason the students were required to stay with their assigned group, and never leave the Inn without a guardian. Not only are there magical creatures running free here, but outside the protective enchantments surrounding the Inn, most witches and wizards' magic, runs amok; something you've been warned about _before _we left for this trip. Yet, you, Miss Granger, seem to think you're above such petty rules."

When she tried to speak on her defence, his thumb pressed on her chin, silencing her. She dropped her eyes to his lips, watching them as he spoke.

"Not only you broke away from your group, but you ventured deep in the forest, when you had no knowledge of the land. You risked yourself, and to an extend your peers; because they did try to come after you when the storm broke out, Miss Granger. Do you have any idea in just how much trouble you are in?"

Hermione remained silent, eyes focused on the way his mouth moved, forming words; she caught flashes of his perfect, white teeth, and she swallowed heavily to assuage the ache that had started between her legs when he touched her.

She had known entering the forest unescorted was a mistake, but she had been furious; with herself, him, Professor Sinistra, Ron.

For months she had denied she had any feelings other than hatred for Professor Riddle; he was arrogant, standoffish, and condescending.

Yet, the jealously that sparked in her earlier today, when she saw him flirting with Professor Sinistra, forced her to accept, at least to herself, that she was attracted to him; perhaps more than attracted, but that particular can of worms could wait until she was safely back in her dorm, and not in the same room with the object of her turmoil.

The shock of her revelation, on top of Sinistra's girlish giggles – honestly, did the woman have no shame? She was over thirty, for crying out loud! - were too much for her to handle; she'd needed to be alone, to think. They wouldn't return to Avalon Inn for a couple more hours, so the forest had seemed perfectly suitable for an hour or two of solitude, and introspection. She hadn't thought twice about crossing the border of trees, and two hours later, she was cursing her stupidity, and uncharacteristic thoughtlessness, as she trudged through the waist high snow.

The snow storm had hit unexpectedly, darkening the sky, and hiding the path; alone, cold, and unable to use magic – and not for a lack of trying, - Hermione had started to fear she'd never make it back to the Inn.

The Acromantula had come out of nowhere; with its thick, black hair, the creature blended in the darkness. Hermione's only warning had been the clicking sound of its pincers, and she barely managed to dodge its first attack, its eight red eyes flashing with amusement at her pathetic attempts to stun it.

Darkness, and panic was a horrible combination, and Hermione managed to get trapped in its web, practically offering herself for dinner as the spider cackled maliciously, taunting her with its inhuman voice.

Professor Riddle had appeared at the nick of time; the Acromantula was poised above her, venom dripping from its fangs, pincers clicking in anticipation of tasting her flesh.

Blasting the enormous spider away with a burst of green light – Professor Riddle was one of the few magic users with enough control over their magic, to counteract the island's suppressive enchantments, - he made quick work of cutting the web keeping her immobile, and grabbed her hand, pulling her along with him as he ran through the forest.

They must have run for a good ten minutes, before they came upon a cabin, half hidden in the snow; it looked empty, and Professor Riddle wasted no time in kicking the door open, pushing her inside, before he cast a series of protective wards around the cabin, before he joined her inside, shut the door, and cast some more safety charms.

Only after he was satisfied with the safety precautions, did he round on her; Hermione, trembling, did her best to avoid looking at him when he calmly, eerily so, told her what an utter idiot she was, endangering her life, and purposefully breaking the rules; even when he threatened her, he did it with such level, composed tones, you'd think he was having a perfectly cordial conversation with her.

Hermione had a feeling Professor Riddle was the kind of person, who could kill someone with a smile on his face.

Snapping herself back to the present, the young witch violently jerked away; needing some space, she stood up, and went closer to the fireplace, resting a hand on the surprisingly dust free mantle; someone from the Inn must be using it regularly. Her thinking process a mess, she did her best to hide the fact her knees had turn to jelly, and her hand shook; being close to Professor Riddle, wreaked havoc on her senses, and she needed all her mental faculties if she didn't wish to make an utter fool out of herself. _Again._

She heard a rustle of clothes as Professor Riddle stood up.

"What, no reply? No smart arse retort, meant to impress me? My, my, did I finally manage to render the Know It All speechless?" His tone was taunting, provoking her; from the corner of her eye, Hermione saw him crossing his arms, and she gulped when she noticed the way his silk, Oxford shirt stretched across his chest, and abdomen. Merlin, he had six pack!

She determinedly turned her back to him, fighting down the blush she felt rising in her cheeks, and she clamped her mouth shut; evidently, he was resolute in starting an argument, but she refused to rise to his bait. After all, he was right.

She had acted rashly, and foolishly, risking her life; if he had not come after her, she'd be dead – as he said. Not that she'd admit that to his face of course; she'd rather eat Bubotuber pus.

The tense silence stretched for two minutes, and Hermione thought that he might have given up on pushing her for tonight; posture relaxing, she let out the breath she was holding.

Suddenly, she felt a wall of heat behind her, and in the second it took her to realise he was there, one of his arms wrapped around her chest, trapping both her arms to her sides, while his free hand gripped her chin, and once again forced her head to the side; his eyes were burning silver, and his mouth was pinched.

He was seriously pissed off; wisely, she kept her indignation to herself. It wouldn't do to incite him more when he was obviously at his bursting point.

But she did file his manhandling her in her mind, mentally making a note to use it against it if the need ever arise.

"You almost got yourself killed, you stupid girl, do you realize that?" He demanded, his grip on her chin almost bruising. Hermione realised Professor Riddle had been merely suppressing his anger; what she saw earlier was just a smidgen of the fire boiling inside him, ready to burst. His jeering remarks, his cold, and detached expression were his attempts to reign in his temper; but now he didn't bother hiding his anger. It was all there, in his smouldering eyes, flaring nostrils, and pinched lips. "Do you realize that if I had gone another way or arrived just a few seconds later, you'd be Acromantula food?"

_I'm crazy... I'm fucking crazy._

_He was angry, ___murderous, ___and Hermione was certain he could hurt her if he wanted to; so, logically, her survival instincts should have kicked in right about the time he grabbed her for the second time, and urged her to fight, to flee. Because Professor Riddle was ___dangerous___, and she should be afraid of him, she should feel threatened by his bigger size, and his magical supremacy over her, and the fact he had her trapped in a remote, isolated place with no witnesses around._

But she wasn't. Scared that is.

Not at all.

And she felt bile rising in her throat, because what she was feeling, was _excitement_. Here he was, manhandling her, possible bruising her, and she was _aroused_ by his harsh treatment; she felt _satisfaction _at the fact she had managed to break down his cold, aloof façade, forcing him to show some emotion.

Her body was positively thrumming with desire, her core throbbed with the need to feel his flesh inside her, and her knickers were soaked through with her arousal.

The young witch trembled, almost biting her tongue off in a fruitless attempt to stop the wanton moan from slipping past her lips, but it was impossible. The sound was low, throaty, almost inaudible if he hadn't been standing so close to her, her mouth mere inches from his.

There was no way, he could have missed it.

Her eyes shut in silent mortification when his eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks stained in red, because now he knew. He _knew_ she wanted him.

Hermione tried to tell herself she wasn't hurt when he abruptly released her, as if touching her had burnt him; but the truth was the clear sign of his revulsion cut her deeper than any cruel word Ron had ever said to her in one of their many fights. Mentally, she was already preparing herself for the bout of humiliation that would follow; after all, Professor Riddle's favourite pastime was to ridicule her.

So, when she was roughly span around, and propelled back, her body colliding with the wall with a soft _thud_, she was understandable stunned; her eyes popped open when he pushed his body against hers, towering over her petite form. Before she could utter a word, he grabbed both of her wrists and raised them above her head, forcing her to arch closer to him; he took hold of her wrists with one of his hands, using his lower body to pin her legs to the wall, and he shoved his free hand in her mass of hair, grabbing a handful on the back of her hair, and pulling her head back.

"What - "

"Silence, Miss Granger." Was the last thing he said, before diving in and claiming her lips in a kiss that burnt her all the way to her toes.

He had no mercy as he plundered her mouth, nibbling and nipping at her lips, forcing her to open her mouth and accept his domination, his tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth, as he held her head immobile with his tight grip on her hair.

It only took her ten seconds to grasp the fact _Professor Riddle was kissing her_, another ten to panic over how wrong this was for a number of reasons, and five more to decide she didn't really care about anything else other than the feel of his lips on hers.

Whimpering, she gave in to her most basic desires, and kissed him back as fiercely as he was kissing her; she had wanted him for so long, her dreams tormenting her with what she couldn't have every night, she feared this was just a hallucination her mind had conjured to help her deal with her attraction.

If it was an hallucination, then it certainly surpassed anything she had ever done with Ron; she felt a twinge of guilt when her conscience reminded her of her boyfriend, but right them, Professor Riddle took her lower lip between his teeth, and bit her, his moist tongue soothing the sting, and obliterating all, and every thought of Ron.

Hermione mewled, arching her back in an attempt to get closer to him; her breasts pressed against him, and she was sure, he could feel her nipples peaking through the thin layer of the shirt she had on.

His growl was swallowed amidst hungry pull of lips, as he released her hair – she immediately took advantage of it, by angling her head to kiss him more properly, - and trailed his hand down her face, tracing her throat; he stopped for a few seconds there, his thumb pressed on her pulse point, feeling her blood race in her veins, before he trailed down again, stopping at her collarbones.

His fingers played with her shirt's buttons, and Hermione felt faint, when, without asking for permission, he started unbuttoning her shirt, careful not to touch the flesh he slowly exposed to the cool air.

Her nipples hardened inside her silk bra, and the brunette witch shook with the force of her desire for this man, who without actually touching her, had her on the precipice of pure ecstasy.

When he was done with her buttons, he licked the roof of her mouth, freed her wrists, and pulled back; her arms dropped to her sides, and she leaned against the wall, breathless, her torso exposed to his hungry stare.

The grey in his eyes was a thin ring around the full dilated pupils, his lips were as swollen, and red as she suspected her own were, and glistened as he drank her in, eyes focusing on her curves.

When he saw her emerald green, silk bra with black lace trimming, and a black bow between her breasts, one corner of his mouth tilted up.

"You little tease," he murmured, entranced as her chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale; Hermione inhaled sharply when he raised a hand, and, using only his index finger, he traced the lace trimming on the top of the right cup of her bra. He circled the nipple – she bit her lip to stop from crying out, - and put enough pressure on the cup for the tip to peak over the top of its cup, all rosy and taut.

Her already harsh breathing, hitched, when he lowered his head, maintaining eye contact, and slowly, as if savouring the taste, he swiped his tongue over the furled tip of her breast. Her hands buried themselves in his black hair when, with a wicked smirk at her, he took her nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak, and lightly grazed it with his teeth, driving her absolutely spare with want.

Unable to control her reaction, she arched her back, pushing against him.

One arm sneaked around her waist, holding her close to him, while the other dropped to her jeans clad thigh, pulling it up and around his hips, as he suckled her breast with wild abandon.

"_Professor!"_


End file.
